


First Kiss

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Series: The Other Regan [12]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:13:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just what the title implies</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Kiss

She’d been gone for weeks, off somewhere in the Hinterlands or Storm Coast or the Emerald Graves or somewhere. He didn’t even know where, anymore. He found himself hating the times she was gone, found it hard to concentrate on anything but worrying for her safety. He was sure Leliana and Josephine had noticed, but thankfully neither spoke of it, within his earshot anyway. He knew it would be coming and likely at the worst possible time. He would walk the battlements outside his office, wishing for her now familiar silhouette astride that violet-hued hart to which she’d taken a liking to clear the horizon. Sitting in his office was a chore, constantly wishing she would come through his door. It was inappropriate for him to feel such things, wasn’t it? Sure they’d flirted; Maker how they’d flirted. But that’s all it had been, right? She wasn’t looking for anything more, certainly not from him. It would be inappropriate, right? Andraste’s ass, when would she get back?

A knock at his door shook him from his thought – a runner, most likely. Or perhaps one of the cooks; they’d noticed he rarely remembered to eat if his food didn’t get brought to his office, especially when she was gone. “Come in,” he growled, flipping through the mounds of reports on his desk. He heard the door open and shut, followed by soft footsteps on the floor, then silence. “Did you need something?” he practically snarled, still not looking up. “Or were you just going to stand there all ….” Wait, was that … did he smell … peppermint? His head shot up in a heartbeat, eyes locking on her.

She’d bathed. He could tell that in an instant. Her short auburn hair was shiny, plastered to her head waiting to dry. Her skin had that freshly scrubbed look, rosy without looking made up. And that smell, Maker he would need to remember to thank Josephine for ordering whatever oil or soap she used. It was heavenly, smelled like home. And she was here, in his office. And he’d just barked at her. Oh, blast it all.

Regan smiled faintly, hands clasped behind her back. She’d wanted to come see him as soon as they’d returned, but the total amount of grime that had covered her, her armor, and her mount necessitated a good scrubbing first. Besides, she was sure he’d have been in meetings all morning. “I … I thought we could talk,” she finally said, hesitantly adding “alone.” Why was she so nervous? It’s not like she’d missed him, right? Oh, wait, that wasn’t true. She had spent almost the entire trip trying to stop thinking about him. It hadn’t worked. She was pretty sure Dorian was sick of hearing about it, too. She didn’t talk about her … personal interests with everyone, but Dorian had become one of her most trusted confidants. He had convinced her to finally tell Cullen how she felt; he was a little tired of the pair dancing around their feelings so poorly.

“A … Alone?” Cullen stammered, suddenly nervous. “I mean … of course.” He shoved away from his desk, barely catching a stack of reports before they tumbled to the floor. He thunked a large weight on top of them to keep them in place and moved to open a door leading to the battlements. His men knew they could easily find him at the first level, so they went further, higher. He hoped putting that much distance between them and his office would give them a little privacy. 

He looked over at her, heart in his throat. Why had she wanted to speak with him? Why alone? Why did she look so serious? His hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing nervously. “It’s a … nice day,” he observed, mentally kicking himself the moment those words passed his lips. Nice day indeed. What was he, a bloody child? Why was he so blasted nervous?

“What?” Regan was startled out of her thoughts by the total randomness of his comment. The day was pleasant enough, really. Few clouds, surprisingly not terribly cold – it was a nice day. But still, it was something totally out of the blue, and that wasn’t why she was here, was it? She was nervous. She kept telling herself she shouldn’t be. Dorian had assured her everything would work out, and he’d know, wouldn’t he? The poor man had been stuck listening to her go on and on about how she felt and how nervous she was and how she wasn’t sure if he felt the same and so on. He’d all but said that he’d had a nearly identical conversation with Cullen over their last chess match, before this latest excursion. Now, she just had to get the courage to say something. But what if he’d been wrong?

“It’s … ah.” Blast it all, he’d just made a fool of himself, didn’t he? Why had he said that? “There was something you wished to discuss?” He felt his neck turning red, did his best to hide it as he rubbed his hand along the flushed skin. Please, Maker, let the blush stop before it reached his face this time.

Regan stopped, leaned against the stone wall. She had to collect her thoughts. She wanted this to make sense. She wanted to be honest with him. “I … I find myself thinking of you,” she murmured, unable to make her voice reach much above a whisper. Her nerves wouldn’t seem to let her. “More than … well, all the time, really.” She looked up, searching for his face. She had to see his reaction, had to know what he felt. “I think I drove Dorian crazy with it, honestly. I just … I don’t … know if you’d ever … think of me?”

She what? She really … really spent time thinking of him, when they weren’t already together? It was like his stomach plummeted and heart soared at the same time. Good thing his innards were all restrained by his skin or things would get messy. “I could,” he started before mentally shaking his head. “I mean, I do … think of you … often.” He wanted to reach out, to touch her, hold her … something. “And what I might say in this sort of situation.” He looked away, knowing the fight to keep the blush away was lost. He knew his cheeks were flushed, but so were hers. “I … I can’t say I haven’t wondered what it would be like to … to ….”

“So what’s stopping you from finding out?” she asked quietly, chewing on her bottom lip. She ran her fingers nervously through her hair, feeling her heart beat in her ears. What did she think she was doing? 

He moved closer, just a hair, and watched those lips. Maker, he wanted to taste …. “You’re the Inquisitor. We’re at war,” he explained, trying to keep his brain working. “And you … I … I didn’t think it was possible that you might ….” He reached out, rested his hands on her arms, wanting to touch her, anywhere.

“I’m still here.” She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Her stomach was doing flip flops. Her heart was ready to explode. A small part of her screamed for her to run; the nervousness apparently triggering some silly flight reflex that she rarely listened to anyway. She wanted him closer, blast it all.

“So you are.” His words caught in his throat, voice growing husky. He ached for her. He’d never ached for anyone, but sweet Andraste; he ached to be near her. He leaned in, practically on top of her, hand moving up to caress her cheek. “It seems too much to ask, but I want to ....” His eyes fluttered closed, their lips only the tiniest bit apart. He heard her inhale. “I want ….”

The door leading in the direction of Cullen’s office banged open. “Commander!” One of Leliana’s runners, James, came scurrying up, oblivious to what he’d just interrupted. He didn’t notice the Inquisitor immediately, focused instead on the document in his hand. “You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s report.”

Cullen shoved away from the wall, growling. He had been so close, so bloody close. “What!” He turned, all but snarling at the runner. For once, he didn’t care if he sounded angry, didn’t care if he looked mean. He’d come up here for a few minutes of uninterrupted time with her, and they still wouldn’t leave him be.

“Si … Sister Leli … Leliana’s report,” James stammered, backing away slowly. “You … wanted it delivered … ‘without delay’?” He finally looked around, noticing the flush on the Commander’s face, the Inquisitor doing her best to blend in with the stone wall. He felt the Commander’s eyes sending daggers his way. “Or … to your office?” He started moving more quickly, eager to be as far from here as possible. “Right. I … I’ll just ….” He all but ran back through the door, warning anyone he passed not to continue along that path.

He had work to do. They shouldn’t be up here. He had reports to look over. She had reports to write and things to attend to. It was enough to know he was interested, right? “If you need to –,“ she started, preparing to slink away when everything just … stopped. Cullen swung back around and was on her in that instant, pressing his lips to hers, body pinning her against the wall as his hand slipped into her hair, cradling her head gently. She whimpered and clutched at his furred collar; he moaned as she drew him closer.

He finally pulled back, needing to breathe, to wrap his mind around everything that had just happened. Wait, he’d essentially just assaulted her, didn’t he? Was she … did she …. “I’m sorry. But … that was … um, really nice.” His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. That had been more than nice. He didn’t know if there was a word in existence that would describe just how that had been. She had responded! She hadn’t pushed him away, hadn’t run off. She’d actually pulled him closer!

Regan slumped against the wall, lips swollen, cheeks burning, core churning. Holy Andraste, that was …! She stood silent for a moment, smiling at him, trying to catch her breath. “Don’t be sorry, Cullen. I … I believe that was a kiss,” she finally said. “But I can’t be sure. It’s … all a blur.” Maker, that was worth the wait. “I might need to wait and see if it happens again to be sure.”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. He had wanted to do that for so long. And she was … happy with it, wanted more. “Yes, well ….” The initial urge sated, he leaned in slower, more gentle, and brushed his lips against hers once, twice, three times before lingering, feeling her arms wrap around him. He didn’t care that anyone below could see them. He didn’t care, now, that runners might try to interrupt. All that mattered was the woman nestled against him.


End file.
